


An Honest Fool

by apple_pi



Category: The Lord of the Rings - J. R. R. Tolkien
Genre: Gen, Hobbits, LOTR
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2008-12-06
Updated: 2008-12-06
Packaged: 2017-10-02 03:31:44
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,159
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2185
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/apple_pi/pseuds/apple_pi
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>"You are always curious, you always have to know, you never think that one little look will hurt. But it always <i>does!</i>"</p>
            </blockquote>





	An Honest Fool

**Author's Note:**

> This story is a small gap-filler, set within _The Two Towers_. Italicized text within this story (other than single-word emphasis), as well as all of Gandalf's dialogue, was written and belongs wholly to J.R.R. Tolkien.

_"All right!" [Gandalf] said. "Say no more! You have taken no harm. There is no lie in your eyes, as I feared. But he did not speak long with you. A fool, but an honest fool, you remain, Peregrin Took. Wiser ones might have done worse in such a pass. But mark this! You have been saved, and all your friends too, mainly by good fortune, as it is called. You cannot count on it a second time. If he had questioned you, then and there, almost certainly you would have told all that you know, to the ruin of us all. But he was too eager. He did not want information only: he wanted _you,_ quickly, so that he could deal with you in the Dark Tower, slowly. Don't shudder! If you will meddle in the affairs of Wizards, you must be prepared to think of such things. But come! I forgive you. Be comforted! Things have not turned out as evilly as they might."_

He lifted Pippin gently and carried him back to his bed. Merry followed, and sat down beside him. "Lie there and rest, if you can, Pippin!" said Gandalf. "Trust me. If you feel an itch in your palms again, tell me of it! Such things can be cured. But anyway, my dear hobbit, don't put a lump of rock under my elbow again! Now, I will leave you two together for a while."

As soon as Gandalf stalked away, Merry wrapped his cousin in his arms. Pippin's thin frame shook with silent sobs, and all Merry could do was hold on until the storm passed. It did so quickly; both hobbits were aware of the voices of Man and Wizard nearby, and both knew they would not be alone long: Whatever would happen, would happen quickly.

Merry sat back and Pippin sat up to wipe his face, sniffing mightily, trying to scrub away the appearance of tears. "Thank you," he muttered to Merry, and then looked up when his cousin did not reply. "What?"

Merry would not meet his gaze. "Oh, Pippin," he said finally, and his voice was tight with frustration and fear and anger.

Pippin's eyes began to fill again. "Don't, Merry," he said. "Whatever you say can't teach me a better lesson than I have learned."

"Have you?" Merry rounded on him, his voice low and furious. "Pippin, how could you be so, so, so stupid?"

"But -"

"No, no, no," Merry went on, his words a rushing tumble. "Don't tell me. You were just curious, you just had to know, you just couldn't help it, you just thought one little peek couldn't hurt - am I right?"

"Merry -"

"Of course I am right." Merry hunched into himself in misery, hands balled into fists in his hair, forehead pressed to his knees, but still his voice went on, slightly muffled. "You are always curious, you always have to know, you never think that one little look will hurt. But it always _does!_" He grew louder and stopped abruptly when he realized it.

Pippin, for once in his life, was left speechless. The horror of the palantir's vision was still seared into his mind, and he knew, _knew,_ that Merry did not mean to make him feel even worse, that his love spoke through this anger. But it hurt, it stung like fire, and Pippin could not stand any more pain on this night of all nights.

He could not see his cousin's face, only the top of his curly head, clear in the moonlight, and his tense, bent form. He reached out to Merry, then recoiled in hurt when the hobbit burrowed his head deeper into his own arms, away from Pippin's touch. Pippin slunk back an inch or two, and then lay upon his pallet, turned from the camp, looking out over the silvery land.

A mere breath later he felt Merry beside him. The older hobbit sighed and lay down behind him; Pippin said not a word, but shifted to give Merry room, and then sighed in his turn at the familiar feel of his cousin's embrace. He sniffled again, this time from gratitude.

"I _am_ sorry," he said timorously.

"I know you are, Pippin. And I am sorry I exploded. I was just - this was just - well, you know."

Pippin nestled into his blanket. "I know."

"It was so far beyond the pale," said Merry. "Even for you."

Pippin nodded. "I don't understand why I did it, really."

"I do."

"You do?"

Merry rubbed his nose into Pippin's back. "You're Pippin," he said, and there was such a wealth of resignation in his voice that Pippin could not stifle a giggle. A moment later Merry began to shake with laughter, too.

The merriment soon passed, and both lay silent soon. Merry was just getting sleepy when Pippin spoke again.

"Merry?"

"Yes?"

"At least I never make the same mischief twice," he said earnestly.

Merry giggled again, a little. "No, that is perfectly true. And I, for one, thank you for it."

"You're quite welcome," said Pippin.

_At that moment a shadow fell over them. The bright moonlight seemed to be suddenly to be suddenly cut off.... A vast winged shape passed over the moon like a black cloud. It wheeled and went north, flying at a speed greater than any wind of Middle-earth. The stars fainted before it. It was gone._

Pippin went rigid within the circle of Merry's arms, and Merry felt his blood turn to ice. Several of the Riders cried aloud, and Merry forced himself to sit up, blindly certain that he must protect himself and his cousin from this menace, for Pippin was wracked with some unutterable pain, his face screwed up, hands clenched tight in fists.

The madness passed as the shadow did, and Pippin breathed in again, a noisy inhalation almost drowned by Gandalf's fierce cry: "Nazgul! The messenger of Mordor!" Merry could see the tall form of the Wizard, stiff and straight, face to the sky. "The storm is coming. The Nazgul have crossed the River! Ride, ride! Wait not for the dawn! Let not the swift wait for the slow!" He turned away, calling for Shadowfax, and at Merry's side, Pippin sat up, running his hands through his curls wearily.

"I fear our quiet is over," he said to Merry, and Merry had only time to nod, biting his lip, before Gandalf was with them.

"You shall come with me this time," he said, lifting Pippin up willy-nilly. "Shadowfax shall show you his paces."

Pippin craned his head past the Wizard's shoulder. He said no word of farewell as Gandalf strode away, but it was all there in his eyes, and answered in Merry's. And as Shadowfax fled across the plains, swiftly broadening the leagues between them, he felt their connection spin out, like a thread that could be stretched to infinite length, but never broken. And he was content.

 

~ _end_ ~


End file.
